The Radio Murders - The Radio Murders

In many ways, the story of The Radio Murders began with Peter Janich.  This successful mercantile trader was presented with one of those opportunities that was either too good to pass up, or too dangerous to survive.

Here is an excerpt of the point in which Peter’s choice would cost him everything and spin a suburban family into chaos.  

Before the nightmare began, Peter Janich was ready for something else.  Had he been asleep, even soundly so, the strange noise might have alerted him; might have saved him. His eyes might have opened, and even in his large and well-built home, a little out-of-place sound would have signaled those ancient, animal responses. But it was one of those nights when he made a promise to both people who shared this bed.

Tonight he would be a husband.  More often than not, lately, it was a shattered promise that ended in either a less than enthusiastic performance or abject failure.  His wife, Lani, had changed.  So had he, but Peter Janich was convinced that his change was an improvement.  One of the many lies with which he lived over the past fourteen months.  Her change - by all accounts – was for the better.  She changed her appearance, her habits and even the way in which she caressed English with the inflective ballet of her central European accent.  She was becoming a striking beauty and Peter secretly appreciated the efforts, even if he suspected it was not totally for his benefit.  Peter Janich learned early in life that an advantage, no matter its origin or intended purpose, was for the exploiting.

A footfall, soft in the darkness, at the top of the stairs, went unnoticed.

Even before the nightmare, their sex was perfunctory.  There was no blaming the birth of their youngest child, a son named Kyle; his birth was just a silent convenience that lessened the dimming intimacy.  Six years is a long time for the libido to take postpartum leave.  Peter loved his son, but hated the name.  The choice was Lani’s attempt to fit the wedge of upper Middle America in which she and her family were deposited: Family, Inc.

That is how Peter ran his home, as a subsidiary of the business that made him comfortable.  The family was a microcosm of his life’s flowchart.  His wife was the comptroller; his older daughter was the VP and heir apparent.  In the beginning, only Lani knew the charter and the mission of the collection of offspring.  Later, as Peter’s business life shrank, the dictatorship grew more oppressive.

Naming his son Kyle was a concession Peter offered his wife for nothing special in return, just the thrill of the negotiation.  He lobbied for Abraham.  Not for the obvious tribute, but so that he could shorten it to Bram while the child was too young to protest.  Peter Janich read few books, and none that were not written by corporate superstars or behavioral scientists.  But he did have one author who, from the time he was a child, sent him to dark and wonderful places.  His name choice was an honorific nod to that writer: the creator of The Vampire.  Lani objected to the name without knowing her husband’s motives.  She thought it sounded too Jewish.